


Short Stories about Everything but mainly Devaronians

by AngryDuck



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Devaronian, Jedi, OC, Other, Sith, Star Wars OC - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:21:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26271049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngryDuck/pseuds/AngryDuck
Summary: Here I share the short, plot-less stories I write about my own Star Wars OCs once in a while :)
Kudos: 2





	1. Little Information

So as I am still figuring this out, please deal with me being a little clumsy with how Archive of our own works. Like said in the title I will post little short-stories for my Star Wars OCs here, often with what is probably a bit of lack of context. I still hope that you can enjoy these little attempts at writing :) If you truly wanna know more about my Characters I would recommend checking out my Instagram @AngryDuckTimeMachine for more context! Have fun!


	2. "To Break a Promise"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two siblings Nadeja and Joschka have a talk after their sister gets captured by the empire

"You promised she will be safe!"  
"Joschka, I-"  
"You promised me!"

She could see her little brother's ears twitching, his lips trembling under the fury burning inside him.  
"I tried to protect her!" She replied, her voice shaking in mutual anger and despair.  
"But how can I protect someone that refuses to be protected, Joschka! You know her! You know yourself!"  
Her voice got louder, more furious.  
"How can I protect you if you hate me for it?"

Silence.

"Joschka-"  
"Leave me alone."

His movement was stiff, paralyzed with anger, his crutches knocking against the table.  
She didn't stop him.  
With a bang he slammed the door behind him leaving her in even heavier silence than before.

Nadeja buried her face in her hands, a sob escaped her throat.

This wasn't her fault.  
She wasn't responsible for what happened.  
There wasn't a thing she could have done.

But it wasn't going to change anything.  
It wasn't going to erase the betrayal and pain in her brothers' eyes.  
It wasn't going to kill the feel of guilt.  
It wasn't going to heal the anger that burned and consumed them from the inside.  
It wasn't going to stop the feel of her world breaking apart.  
It wasn't going to change a thing of what had happened.


	3. "Old Friend"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Young Wilfred and Zariel are excited to become Padawan, unaware of what horrible things the future will hold for them. CW for implement of death.

_"That looks kinda boring."_

_"I like it."  
Not bothered by his friends words Wilfred felt over the wooden spheres that his new necklace consisted off._

_A curious blue-ish face appeared in his field of vision as Zariel bowed over to take a look at it. The freshly adjusted Padawan braid swung back and forth, Wilfred had watched Zariel pull all the beads on a strong and tie it together at the end but not before attaching one of his soft brown feathers onto it.  
He seemed to lose a huge amount of his feathers over the past few weeks, there was barely a day where he wasn't finding one of the little inconspicuous things around their room. Zariel had started to moult, in between his baby feathers Wilfred could spott more and more black and white and even little pink ones._

_"What are you gonna put here?" The Omwati asked, pointing at the clips on three of the spheres. Wilfred could only shrug.  
"I don't know yet. Maybe my master will have an idea."  
"I think I have a better idea than your master.", Zariel argued, running both his hands through his feathers until he hold up his hand towards Wilfred. "Take these! We can be... Padawan-Twins through the feathers!"_

_He laughed, gladly taking his friends gift to him and attaching them to the clips of his necklace.  
"How does it look now?"  
"Way better than before."  
Zariel took the necklace out of his hands and turned around Wilfred to lay it around his neck, closing it.  
"Now you are officially a Padawan as well.", he said, tracing his own Padawan Braid with a proud smile. "I hope our masters will let us go on missions together."_

_"Yes, I hope that too."_

\------------------------------------------------------

His feathers were no longer a inconspicuous brown. The blue and black gleamed in the dirt, catching the sunlight breaking through the clouds.

He could see the shadow of a long gone smile on his blank face, a spark of childlike happiness in his empty eyes.

There was nothing left of him.

With a sudden move he grabbed the necklace around his own neck, the lock, brittle from years of not taking care of it broke easily under his strength as he threw it into the dirt.

Quietly it lay there, next to empty eyes staring into the grey sky.

He couldn't take the view any longer. He could feel a hand on his shoulder and then was pulled away.

He didn't tried to resist.


	4. "A Stranger's Name"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That's it. The Peak of my Writing Career. A short story I am geniuly proud of!   
> CW: Implement of death

_[name]_

A stranger's name.

And still his chest clenches as if his heart recognizes the name when his rotten mind can not.

He comes closer, able to feel the heat of the unrepairable damaged power unit next to him, to smell the braised moss under his feet.. A familiar smell, trying to reach a corner of his brain not yet eaten away. Trying to reach a memory.

_[name]_

_[Is it really you?]_

A hand reaches out to him, skin red and burned. He can see blood dripping on the ground.  
He knows what to do: Walk away, leave them alone. He cannot help them. He can only make it worse.  
And still something locks up his legs, keeping him from walking away and turning away from the face that looks at him.

_[Come closer, please.]_

_[name]_

_[Come here.]_

It's a face of despair, of pain, of recognition.

A face of death.

Something draws him closer, a feeling, a longing. It's a warm feeling in his chest, getting warmer and warmer - until it burns like a fire. His body seems to remember. The touch of gentle hands on his skin, soft whispers in his ears, a warm body close to him during a cold night.

_[name]_

Their voice is getting weaker, almost inaudible now in damaged ears but he can see their lips moving. The leaves under his bare feet rustle as he steps closer, grabbing the hand reaching out for him. Sinking down on his knees he looks into death's face and it greets him with an exhausted smile.

_[name]_

He has to lean closer to catch the words. To catch the last breaths of life, weakly escaping his chest.

Arms wrapping around him, pulling him closer in a hug without hope but a hug full of relief. Feeling like someone else, a shadow of his past guides his own arms, sliding into a position to hold them. The movement so painfully familiar in his chest.

_[I love you.]_

A voice his ears remember.  
A hug his arms remember.  
A lover his heart remembers.  
His rotten mind does not.


	5. "Everybody Cared"

The kitchen was quiet when she entered, holding up her hand to stop the blood from dripping on her shirt.

Her brother was sitting at the table, head laid down on the plate.  
Sleeping.

Out of sudden, Natalka felt the urge to push him over, to kick and scream at him.  
Not to hurt him but to disturb his peace. Of course he could rest like that, huddled up under the care of Nadeja, of their mother, of everyone.  
The jealousy burned cold like ice in her chest as she passed him to walk over to the sink, staring at herself in the distorted reflection of the surface.  
A dark drop felt down, running with the last spits of water and disappeared between two dirty plates. Maybe those dots of black blood would finally make her mother realize. Make her realize that she had more than just two children.  
Watching her blood streaming down the drain her mind wandered over to her little brother sleeping at the table.  
She knew he had nightmares.  
Everybody knew.  
Everybody cared.

And yet when she woke up in the middle of the night - trembling and shaking from things seen she couldn't remember, hearing nothing but her own heart racing in fear and drowning in cold guilt - she always was alone. For her, nobody came to hug her, to share the comfort of a hug, to sing her to sleep again. Because nobody knew and nobody seemed to notice how much she needed them to know.

A drip of clear, salty water joined the black as she started to feel pain in her chest. She kept the sob inside - couldn't risk waking him up.

Her mother would be angry at her. Of course she would.  
It had all been Natalka's fault, so why shouldn't this be her fault - her mistake - as well.  
Her fingers brushed over his head as she left the kitchen. "I'm sorry."


	6. "Discovery"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evie belongs to a friend of mine, Raphael is my own OC :)

"Raphael, wait for me!"

The voice of his friend close behind didn't slowed him down much as he jumped over a fallen tree with ease, ducking righ behind it to dodge a bush of berries.

"We are never gonna be home for dinner if you keep falling behind!", he laughed when his friend crawled underneath the bush with laid back ears.

"We are never gonna be home for dinner because you will run into a tree if you won't slow down!", Evie shouted back.

A little smaller than Raphael she laid her head back to glare at him before the corner of her mouth twitched into a smile.

"I will be first!", she yelled while starting to run ahead now, Raphael close behind.

The two chased each other along the path when Raphael suddenly catched something out of the corner of his eye and stopped immediately.

"Evie!", he called his friend back while moving closer.

When he came closer, he discovered it was an old starfighter, rusty, wings broken or bend it was barely anything more than a wreck.

"What is that?", he mumbled when Evie stepped beside him.

"A starfighter", Evie whispered. "It must have crashed here years ago.."

Raphael slowly walked closer and tried to rip away the ivy that grew over the cockpit, wanting to take a look inside through the dull window.

It was empty.

He didn't knew what he expected but breathing suddenly felt easier than before.

"Be careful", Evie warned, but he could feel her by his side, sharing his interest and curiosity.

"I wonder who it belonged to." Raphael brushed over a handful of moss and then picked it off.

It revealed a symbol painted on the once white surface and Raphael's guts seemed to cramp.

Pale and almost washed away the Devaronian Skull framed by two two wings stared back at him.

He had seen it before.

He recognized it.

"I want to go home."

He reached for Evies hand.

"Yes. Me too."


	7. "Father and Son"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very short, little moment of softness between a father and his recently taken in son. Sulas belongs to a friend, Zitron is my OC.

It was quiet when he opened the door to his apartment, stepping over the pair of shoes somebody left in the way.  
He stopped in the hallway, listening carefully into the silence. From outside the building he could hear a few birds and the low sounds of speeders passing by.  
He bowed down to untie his shoes and carefully them aside to the wall while hanging up the heavy leather jacket, the black fabric warm from the setting sun outside.  
As quiet as possible he walked over to the living room. With a smile he spotted what he already expected - Sulas curled up on the couch, still in full clothing, head rested on his crossed arms.

He walked over to the sleeping kid and picked him up, a lightweight in his arms, not much of a problem not even for his injured shoulder. Carefully he carried the young boy over to his bedroom, laying him down on the bed and pulling the blanket over him.  
Sulas didn't seem to wake up - or if he did, he wasn't showing it and with a smile Zitron brushed over his forehead.  
"Good night.", he whispered before leaving the room, closing the door behind him quietly after turning off the lights.

Back in the living room he sat down on the couch, reaching for the bottle of water standing on the small table and then leaning back, turning on the holo-player.  
He didn't know how much time had passed - might just be a few minutes, he had dozen off - when he could hear quiet footsteps approaching and someone climbing onto the couch next to him.  
His expression was tired but warm when he lifted an arm so the boy could cuddle up to him.  
"Shouldn't you be in bed, you little bastard?", he mumbled with a smile. There wasn't an audible answer but he could feel Sulas moving closer as he put his arm protective around the skinny boy.

With a yawn Zitron closed his eyes again, listening to the silence of the apartment while he drifted off to sleep again.


	8. "Run"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know shit gets real if the always calm Jedi screams at you

The air around them is silent. It feels, as if nature herself had retreated, making room for the two men, standing across each other and the low humming of their lightsaber.

Frelea watches his opponent, the Twi’lek in front of him is barely more than skin and bones, his long Lekku twitching back and forth, restless like his mind. His stance, while following the basics is careful almost as if he was preparing to run way the second Frelea makes a move.

A raindrop hits his head and starts running down his forehead and over his cheek. Thunder growls in the distance. The other man flinches visibly.

With a deep breath he shifts his feet, his braids swinging back and forth as he brings his lightsaber staff in front of his body, the pink blade sizzling with every raindrop. 

The silence is heavy and unbearable.

“Leave.”

The rain soaks through his clothes, making the fabric heavy and cold on his skin. His opponent starts to tremble.

“I know you don’t want to fight.”, Frelea repeats, but the other man doesn’t move. The fear of failure is stronger than the fear of death. Of course it is. He is a Sith. Frelea knows how it feels.

He moves forward, swinging his staff - it doesn’t feel right to kill the Sith. He is just another terrified soul, abused solely for the misfortune of his connection with the Force.

There are so many more like him.

Their sabers meet in an explosion of sparks as he stares into the Twi’leks eyes, red and wide open in fear, dark circles underneath. But fear is a powerful weapon.  
A quick counter attack forces Frelea to step back and dodge.

A lightsaber in the hands of a scared man is a dangerous weapon. Frelea knows that, all too well. But his fear is no longer controlling him.  
He jumps forward in a moment of broken defense - it has always been so weak, one day he’d face an opponent not as merciful as Frelea and find his end because of it - the metal end of his own staff slamming away the Twi’leks legs from underneath him.

It had barely been a fight. It never was.

Frelea points the blade towards the man on the ground. The silence returns to his ears, his only company the sizzling of rain hitting the lightsaber and his own breath. 

“Run.”

The other man looks up to him. With his red saber extinguished he just looks scared, distrusting of his command.

“Run.”, Frelea repeats. “Tell your master that I got away. That I ran from you.”

The Twi’lek still doesn’t move, he seems frozen, the only movement is the slight tremble of his arms and Lekku.

“RUN!”

He is shocked by himself, by the sudden outburst, the sudden heat of anger and old pain exploding in him. But it’s enough to make the other man move, to get on his feet, grabbing his lightsaber and run, disappearing between the trees.

“Just run.”


End file.
